in more ways than one.

undressed –

cuffed to the lines.

ritualistic –

submissive traits

under command of the master.

proven tactics-

sensual arousals,

though ingenuity leaves a flair

so cerebral through voice.

every factor

came into play

of all the excitement,

until that ice-cube

truly numbed the ecstasy

of what was once seventh heaven

the hard way

before the rules

took over at inception.


eyes of penetration,

easily animalistic here.

that look tells…

you want more

of the touch of skin,

like the snake

left behind in appearance.


all that wonder

of what is left,

is enough

to desire plenty of curiosity.


a clear glass of water

on the counter

speaks of that breath

of oxygen without seeing it –

yet vital in so many ways.


a smile of initial turn on;

the face of expression

is all too beautiful.

intellectualism on the tips of fingers –

prodding with the kind

of stimulation that a body first attracts.


pick up the snakeskin

and fill it with this –

attraction is sexier

when the inside is fulfilled.


isn’t beauty wonderful on the outside – this time?


that woman

who loves poetry,

is the one of beauty

with long sunshine hair

with a single braid

running down her back.

like calypso

the sea nymph,

she tended to him

in the grotto

with wonderful archways

and four fountains

in the seranading mists.

after time,

she led him outside

to a place away from the ocean,

where the hypnotic

summer breeze flows in

at a summer retreat.

they danced

in gentle grooves

as the music played

in the background.

later she took him inside

and opened the door

to the room that opened his soul

in the mists of the beautification of love.


i wonder

if your eyes are blue,

brown, or hazel.

could they be fresh

to read my poems

after i have given them to you?

these words

are meant to open

your thoughts

so that my feelings

run through your palms

and drift into your heart

like a raft at sea.

i cannot help but think

what love might actually be like,

it goes with the territory

when it comes to sensitive poetry.

now that your thumbs

rest on the beats of my heart – i need this escape.

your eyes are here to find

my way through all the battles.


here in the mythical

and the magical –

a little honey

of natural infusion

to hang out

on the patio bar

to cure past

summer storms.

in a drunk dance,

she took the hand,

led the dance steps

in all the twirls

with her dress in flight.

the view of flowers

in wooden boxes

off the rails

were like fragrances of a necklace

she put around my neck.

all them colors

poured into my soul

in all the spectrums,

as she spilled out

from all of her sun’s rays

to taste her reality

through my fingers.


your voice is hiding you away man.

i told you it had to

GO DOWN  this way.

you know what happens

when the boss

has a score to settle?

i’m telling you

that absolutely nothing

gets past me.

you are like family,

but i can’t save your ass.

you can’t hold back that stuff

because i want to see

what you are made of.

i want you to meet me at my place

in two hours, then we’ll see

if i can convince you on style.


sat down face to face

and stared each other down.

the boss won out,

as his influence

made the difference.

this became the agreement

that went to the mat.


a disconnect

without feel can be a time bomb

if not addressed.

the need to drop

it to the paper

is so vitally important.

those feels

in life that endured a tailspin

needs a little fine tuning apparatus.

the fingers

with godly ambrosia

rubbed on each and absorbed

began to uncover

the guaze of wounds.

inside that chest

was a little stronger

than was given credit.

it’s never a free pass,

salvage the outlet spirit.

if you have to blame it on something.

blame it on the keyboard.

it’s the best achilles heel

when it’s repair oriented.

then disconnect from the feel

and connect into life

until needing to feel

for the next rub down.


She’s got that purr

That rubs up against me.

So subtly-

The scent of her

Enticingly erotic

When it comes to the cat’s meow.

In a rhyme

That leaves me

Begging for more

Of her seductive verse.


when i look at the words

woven in the fabric –

love stands out.



but see,

it needs a place

where comfort resides-

a poetic declaration

threaded out of life.



tragedies of yesteryear

become explorations written in metaphor.




understanding is all it takes.



can there be a strength,

as a romance unfolds

to be omnipotent and alive?



if it does,

it takes two

and the work

will have a meaning

when you and i

stare into each others eyes

for the very first time.


your writing is angry

is what that person implied

when we talked.

he went on to say,

“it’s too serious

and if i want that,

all i need to do

is watch the news on TV.

even the bands

of late these days

make me sick

because they have

some kind of message.

i want an escape;

something that doesn’t remind me

of what is around me.”

if that is the case,

then doesn’t it imply

that looking the other way

is the root cause of our country’s demise?

like homeless people caught in the power political vacuum.

why should i look the other way?

this is the reason i come here to escape.